


the one who told you

by singlemalter



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Blood Kink, Consensual Kink, Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-11-01 22:36:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20530430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singlemalter/pseuds/singlemalter
Summary: Charles, Max, and some sharpness.





	the one who told you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [untouchableocean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/untouchableocean/gifts).

> Heed the tags, etc.

Charles keeps his eyes firmly shut, hands flat under his lower back. This is the height of self-degradation, he thinks, stripping himself bare for his biggest rival and giving him so much power. His head spins with a mix of abject desire and terror, a whole new kind of disgust deep in his gut.

Confined to the darkness behind his eyelids, he doesn’t see Max take one of the knives from the tray on the nightstand. He’s caught off-guard by the cold metal that digs into his stomach, not cutting, but hard enough to send a chill down his spine. Max doesn’t relent, dragging the sharp edge up and down Charles’ skin with steady motions, drawing indistinct shapes like his body is nothing but a convenient canvas.

A particularly strong swipe leaves a thin streak of blood behind. “Fuck,” Charles cries, mellowed out by the endorphins soothing the wound.

Max stops. “Good?” he asks, blade hovering over Charles’ sternum.

“Yes,” Charles says. His fingers are numb and his body aches all over, yet he wants more, craves it in order to keep himself in line. “Use the other one.”

“Okay,” Max says, getting the second knife from the tray, its tip ground into a round shape. He kneels between Charles’ legs and pulls him closer by the thighs so he’s spread eagle and _vulnerable_, hole already stretched open by his own shaky fingers. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” Charles begs, barely audible. The triumph of his first win has long worn off. He’s empty and desperate, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. 

Max may be a tease, but he’s not cruel or a liar; he gives Charles exactly what he wants, shifting slightly until his dick is level with Charles’ arse, pushing into him without ceremony. This is what they both need, raw, fast release. 

Once he’s fully inside, he lifts the knife to Charles’ face and moves it down his pale skin, stopping above his Adam’s apple and pressing it flat against his neck. His thrusts grow angrier, firmer, the thrill of fucking Charles heightened by the dominance of holding a weapon to someone’s throat.

Charles is so pliant under Max that he doesn’t look like Ferrari’s young prodigy anymore, not when he’s covered in his own blood and sweat. He whines softly into the pillow, and Max goes further, raising the blade to Charles’ face and trailing it across his flushed cheeks. It’s too dull to leave more than light pink lines, yet Charles’ chest races with fear and arousal all the same.

“Please,” Charles says. “Please, I want…”

“Be patient,” Max interrupts. He may be impulsive on the track, but he enjoys taking his time with Charles, fucking him hard and saving the best for last. Sometimes he thinks Charles wants their sex to be fiercer, rougher, and while a part of him has considered it, he knows this is for the best.

He doesn’t want to risk becoming like his dad.

**Author's Note:**

> “Love, I know it is not sexy to make-out with someone who so constantly has their foot in their mouth. But remember I am also the one who told you I want to feel you like the lifelines on the palms of Jesus felt the nails go through.” Andrea Gibson, _The Madness Vase_.
> 
> I wanted to write more but got writer’s block, except I also wanted to post something, so.
> 
> singlemalter on Tumblr.


End file.
